Learning From Solomon's Wisdom

Beautiful hand.

In a recent $30-$60 hold'em game, a fairly tight player we'll call David raised preflop from under the gun. Three players behind him cold-called his raise. Given the multiway action, I decided to make a loose call with the 2 2 from the button. The big blind (BB) also called, so we ended up with six-way action.



The flop came J 7 2 … bingo for Lessinger. With no obvious straight or flush possibilities, I definitely was feeling good about my hand. The BB checked, and David also checked. Everyone checked around to the player on my right, a strong, no-nonsense player we'll call Solomon, and he came out betting.



While I normally would not slow-play bottom set, I thought the board was especially nonthreatening, so I took a chance and simply called. The BB and David both called, while the other two players folded, so we were fourhanded going to the turn. Meanwhile, I definitely was thinking, "An ace would be nice."



Sure enough, the dealer turned the A. Perfect. There was no backdoor-flush possibilities and no legitimate straight possibilities, and now David might think a hand such as A-K could be good. Like clockwork, the BB checked and David bet. Solomon merely called, and, naturally, I raised.



The BB mucked and David flat-called, which made me pretty sure I held the nuts – that is, until Solomon surprised us both by putting in three bets! As I said before, he is a rock-solid player, and therefore his reraise demanded respect. Logic was telling me I was beat, since I had trouble envisioning him making that play without a set, so I strongly considered folding. But I looked down at the large pot, and I guess greed got the better of me. I called, trying to convince myself that Solomon might have A-J, and David called, as well. Even if I filled up, I still didn't like my hand, so I had no intention of doing anything other than calling.



Then again, I didn't consider the possibility of getting some real improvement on the river. I never thought the 2 would look so beautiful, but when it came off the deck, I was pretty shocked. The board now read J 7 2 A 2. David checked, Solomon bet, I raised, and David showed the A J to his neighbor before laying it down.



"Aw, man," said Solomon, not unkindly, "I guess you have a bigger boat." He simultaneously called and flipped over his 7 7.

I sheepishly showed my pocket deuces, shrugged apologetically, and said something to the effect of, "Sorry, man, I got insanely lucky."



And then, his reaction

"Hey, man, it happens," Solomon said as he tapped the table in my direction. "Beautiful hand." There was not a trace of sarcasm or malice in his words. He had just lost a pot of more than $1,200 to a one-outer, yet from the tone of his voice, you never would have known it. Not only was I impressed by that immediate reaction, I was even more impressed by the way he continued to demonstrate his A-game. He won the next two pots in which he was involved, and even with the terrible beat he suffered, he still managed to turn a nice profit.



I actually became envious

Don't get me wrong, I was extremely happy to win with my quad deuces, and I'm always thankful to get such luck. But I still came away from the entire experience a little embarrassed. Why? It wasn't because I played the hand badly. I could have folded on the turn, but it was certainly a forgivable decision to call Solomon down with a set.



No, it was because I knew that if I were in Solomon's shoes, I could not have handled the situation so professionally. In fact, I had an almost identical beat in a $15-$30 game about a year ago. I had K-K and a good friend had 6-6. We both had sets, but he rivered the case 6 to beat me. When I raised on the river and he put in the third bet, I stood up from the table in disgust. I threw my money into the pot angrily and bluntly asked him, "You've got the quads?" When he turned his hand up, I muttered, "Yeah, yeah," and walked away from the table without another word.



Keep in mind that my opponent was a good friend! Yet, I still was not able to handle the situation with any grace whatsoever. I was not angry with him, as there wasn't any reason to be. He didn't do anything wrong. But I guess I was angry with the poker gods for giving him his one-outer, or something stupid like that. And then I felt the need to act out my anger, and also the need to leave the table for a few minutes to compose myself. I'm pretty sure that if I had stayed seated, the beat would have put me on tilt, or at least seriously affected my play.



All in all, I was totally unprofessional.



Solomon reminded me of my shortcomings



Seeing Solomon handle the situation so perfectly was a wake-up call. It demonstrated firsthand one of the things I still need to improve if I want to become a top-notch professional player. My skills are solid, but the same can be said of thousands of players. What sets the top players apart is their ability to keep their cool in tough situations. If I want to be one of them, I cannot be so affected by rough beats. I have to remember that I have often been outrageously lucky (the hand against Solomon being a perfect example), and that it's ridiculous to expect every break to go my way.



So, the next time I take a tough beat, I have to remember the way Solomon handled himself, and do my best to imitate him if I ever want to reach the next level. And for those of you who still have trouble handling bad beats (and judging by the e-mail I receive, there are a lot of you out there), you too need to continue striving to improve your attitude. We must be able to take bad beats gracefully, put them behind us, and come right back with solid play.



Solomon has shown us what we must do. Now, we just need to do it.



Matt Lessinger is the author of The Book of Bluffs: How to Bluff and Win at Poker. It is available at CardPlayer.com. To find other articles by Matt, check out the Online Poker News newsletter at http://www.cardplayer.com/.